Blog vacation

I think it’s time to take a little break. I’ve been posting every day for over six months now, and it’s time to recharge the creative batteries. I’ve got some writing projects in various stages of development that I want to work on. The self-promotional stuff is hard work, but if the books aren’t sellingContinue reading “Blog vacation”


Couldn’t seem to get out of Pennsylvania. I kept goin’ back to the barn and found a couple more paintings, and they was just as nice but not as big. Albagon painted a tornado that looked like a three-color Popsicle on the side of a shed, and somethin’ that looked like a Chinese owl onContinue reading “Randomness”


I coral them behind the counter where I can keep an eye on them, then lock the door. There’s a sign that says “We’re Open” and “Sorry, We’re Closed”, so I flip it over. This place is closed for the next ten minutes. The old lady looks scared and distracted. I don’t think she’s tookContinue reading “Closed”

Virginia sky

It don’t rain but a lick ‘less it decides to. I ‘member in Virginia drivin’ in my Daddy’s pickup how the sun would be shinin’ one minute and the next, well sir, the sky’d hang o’er the Appalachians like a gray and purple quilt and the rain would fall like it wuttin’ never gonna stop.Continue reading “Virginia sky”


“There,” said Cronic, and swerved. The father grinned, sweat pooling around his eyes and jowls, barely noticing the driver and passenger, instead admiring the ‘Bird. Cronic skidded to a stop a couple of feet in front of the two hapless travelers, sending up a plume of gravel smoke from the rear tires. Dad nodded appreciatively, aContinue reading “There”

The weight of rain

It has been another day and night of dusty roads. Gravel dirt and hay chaff hangs in the air. The weight of rain is oppressive; it is fat and ready to swallow the earth. I’ve spent the last three days hitchhiking, waiting for it, watching the road and the bruised face of the sky untilContinue reading “The weight of rain”

The routine

“Okay, ya’ll. You know the routine.” I wave my snub at the three people in the corner store in Shrewsbury. I never liked to wear stockin’s like the robbers you see on TV shows, and I don’t like those thick wool ski masks ‘cause they itch. Rubber masks ain’t no good ‘cause sometimes the eyeholesContinue reading “The routine”

Cronic: First review

“This is a wild ride, both extremely nostalgic and timeless in tone. The author’s use of color, both figurative and literal, is expressive, vivid, unique. This book is like having a dream that swims between the technicolor Oz and pure, screaming terror. Another amazing read by a breakout author. 5 stars” – Felicity Johns

The ride begins….

I kill’t my first boy when I were fifteen year old, my stomach hurt so bad. His name was Charlie and he was showin’ off his ’61 T-Bird…. *** “They declared me unfit to live said into that great void my soul’d Be hurled They wanted to know why I did what I did WellContinue reading “The ride begins….”